


Burning Up

by ktnb



Category: Marvel (Movies), The Avengers (2012)
Genre: Begging, Community: kink_bingo, Figging, M/M, Painplay, Temperature Play, Why can't I write typical kinks?
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2012-06-13
Updated: 2012-06-13
Packaged: 2017-11-07 15:48:28
Rating: Mature
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 2,008
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/432828
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/ktnb/pseuds/ktnb
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>Most of the time, Phil's dirtiest evenings started with an idea from Clint. Sometimes though, Phil had ideas of his own.</p>
            </blockquote>





	Burning Up

**Author's Note:**

> Written for Kink Bingo 2011. Zero movie spoilers within. Eternal thanks to [thebratqueen](http://archiveofourown.org/users/thebratqueen) for the readthrough and the cheerleading!

Most of the time, Phil's dirtiest evenings started with an idea from Clint.

Over time, they'd discovered that it was easier if Clint led their ventures away from the vanilla. He had very specific thoughts about what he liked, and very specific thoughts about what he _didn't_ like, and rather than let Phil navigate that minefield on his own, Clint guided him with suggestions. He'd offered to make lists for Phil, recognizing his appreciation for properly organized paperwork, but Phil liked the method they'd constructed better. Each idea Clint offered up, each experience they had together, gave Phil another piece to the puzzle of how Clint worked, and he liked earning those pieces, not having them handed to him. Clint worked very hard to keep people from trying to look past his reputation, and Phil considered it a privilege to be on the short list of people who occasionally got past his shields.

Sometimes though, Phil had ideas of his own, and that seemed to delight Clint just as much. It probably had something to do with how straight-laced he was most of the time, how he didn't look like the kind of guy who could be cooking breakfast with his partner one minute, and handling a spatula with a particular gleam in his eye the next, but Phil had to admit that he was learning just as much about himself in this relationship as Clint was.

Today, he'd learned that the internet contained some very intriguing ideas about ways to spice up one's sex life, and that was how he and Clint ended up sitting at the tiny kitchen table in his apartment with a plastic bag from the nearest market between them.

"You know, when you said you wanted to try something with food, I thought you meant breaking out some whipped cream," Clint said, giving the stalk of ginger an experimental poke. 

"I already know how you and chocolate syrup taste together," Phil replied. "I wanted to try something different."

"This is pretty different," Clint said, but Phil knew the look he was getting meant Clint was only protesting for the fun of it. "What are you going to get out of it? You're not going to feel anything."

"Do you think I don't feel anything when I'm watching you?" Phil said. "I don't need to physically feel anything to go through the experience with you. You can say no if you want to."

"I know. I don't want to say no. I--you know."

Trust was an inherent part of their job. Phil knew Clint's trust extended beyond the field, and he'd earned the knowledge that Clint's inability to say that out loud didn't make it any less true.

"Yes, I know. I just wanted to leave the option open," Phil said. "Go in the bedroom and get undressed then. I'll be in in a few minutes."

Clint grinned and took off, leaving a trail of clothing in his wake (he liked being naked, and god was Phil ever grateful for that), and if Phil took his time washing and cutting the ginger to size, it was only because Clint liked the feeling of anticipation as well, really. By the time he got to the bedroom, Clint was sprawled out on the bed, lying on his stomach with his head pillowed on his arms.

"Do you want me to help you undress, or are you going to do it yourself?" he asked.

Phil had lost his suit jacket as soon as they'd gotten back to his place, hanging it up carefully in his closet with all the others, and his tie had been hung on its proper hook as well, but he was still wearing his shirt and pants. He looked down at himself for a moment, and then at Clint and the expanse of warm, naked skin in front of him, and rolled up his sleeves. 

"I think I'm good, actually."

"You're not going to--" Clint started, and his skin took on a flush that only supported Phil's idea.

"Not yet. I'm not the one who needs to be naked."

"I don't need to be naked either. You're not going to cover me in this stuff."

"Of course I'm not. Why would I want to cover all this up?" Phil said, running his hand down Clint's back. Clint shivered, and any further argument he might have made seemed to fade away.

"What do I need to do?" he asked, tilting his head to look up at Phil.

"Just relax," Phil said, opening his bedstand drawer and grabbing the lube he kept stashed inside. He slicked up two of his fingers and slid them into Clint one at a time, his other hand on the small of Clint's back.

Clint managed to lie still for a whole thirty seconds before arching back against Phil's fingers, smiling as he pushed them in deeper. "Okay, I'm liking this so far."

"You always like this part."

"You always touch the right spots in this part."

"You get me to touch the right spots with your inability to stay still," Phil said.

"You love that I can't stay still, and you know it," Clint shot back.

Phil couldn't argue with that, and it seemed better to focus on opening Clint up anyway. Once he was ready - writhing harder was totally a sign for Phil to stop, and if enjoying the way Clint whined and swore at him was wrong, he didn't want to be right - Phil reached for the bowl of cool water where he'd left the ginger, and pulled it out. 

"If the sensation gets to be too much, tell me, and I'll stop," Phil said, moving back to Clint's side.

"Didn't you say you wanted me to relax? 'Cause that's not exactly helping." Clint smiled at Phil. "I'll stop you if I need to, I promise."

That was all the reassurance Phil needed to put his hand on Clint's back again, and slowly start to work the ginger into him.

To his credit, Clint managed to stay quiet for thirty-two seconds this time. "I don't feel anything."

"It takes a few minutes to kick in," Phil said, sliding the ginger in just a little further, enough that it would have an effect, but not enough that he couldn't take it out at a moment's notice.

Clint made a whining noise and narrowed his eyes. "You specifically picked something where I'd have to show patience, didn't you?" 

Phil nodded mildly. "It might have been one of the deciding factors, yes." He rubbed his hand in small circles over Clint's back while Clint explained all the reasons Phil was a terrible person.

"You know I'm never going to be able to eat sushi again, right? I mean, it's bad enough that I can't make an omelet without losing it, but this just--"

"This just what?" Phil asked, but when he looked down at Clint's face, he had an entirely new question. "How do you feel?"

"Holy shit," Clint said, arching his back up against Phil's hand. "Um. I think maybe it's kicking in."

Phil sat down on the bed next to Clint and let his hand drift lower. "Maybe?"

"Okay, it's definitely kicking in. This-- _fuck_. It feels--god, Phil, I--I can't even."

Despite his ninja-like skills, Clint was rarely quiet, and the time he and Phil spent in the bedroom was no exception. The more turned on Clint got, the filthier his words became, and seeing him nearly rendered speechless was worrying and amazing at the same time.

"Is it okay?" Phil asked as he scooted closer. 

"Okay?" Clint looked up at Phil with incredulation. "Fuck okay, this is _awesome_. It's warm and it's burning and it's all inside me and fuck, I wish you could feel this."

"I don't want to feel it. I want you to feel it." Phil leaned in closer, so his mouth was right by Clint's ear, and murmured, "Clench up for a sec."

He didn't need to see Clint do it, and he was grateful for the thickness of his apartment's walls when Clint screamed.

"Am I still a terrible person?" he asked, grinning as he slipped his hand into Clint's hair.

"Terrible," Clint said, laughing as he shuddered. "Maniacal." 

"Maniacal? That's a new one. I feel like I just leveled up."

Phil was pretty sure he heard the words "maniacal geek" come out of Clint's mouth, but it was muffled by the pillow as Clint writhed harder on the bed. "Come on, turn over," Phil said. He nudged Clint in the side until he rolled onto his back, and didn't waste any time before straddling him. Clint was rock hard, and Phil made sure to press against him as much as he could. "How does it feel now?"

"Worse. I mean better, stronger. Burning hotter," Clint said quickly. Phil marveled at the sight of Clint coming undone like this, but it was nothing compared to when he started to slip his hand between them. 

"Do you want me to take it out?" he asked.

Clint shook his head emphatically. "No," he said in an instant. "No, no, no, please don't, _please_."

For all that they'd played around with "making" Clint say please, Phil had never heard him outright beg. It was an intoxicating feeling that pooled in his stomach, and he leaned in closer, putting his hands on the bed beside Clint's head. "Say that again."

" _Please?_ " Clint begged. "Please, I don't want it to stop, not yet. I need..." 

"What do you need?" Phil asked. "You can tell me, it's okay."

Clint looked up at Phil and put his hands on Phil's shoulders for a few moments, looking like he was debating with himself as much as he could with the sensations running through him. Then, he tugged Phil down, wrapping his arms tighter around him, and buried his face in the crook of Phil's neck. It only took a moment for Phil's brain to kick in, and he slipped his arms around Clint in return, holding on as Clint rocked against him, his moans vibrating along Phil's skin.

When Clint finally came, letting out another scream, Phil tightened his hold and pressed his mouth to Clint's ear again. "It's okay," he said. "I've got you. Just let go, it's okay." It was only when Clint finally let go of him that Phil released him. He reached down to pull the ginger out, setting it back in the bowl before lying down next to Clint, rubbing his arm to keep contact as he slowly came down.

"How do you feel? Are you all right?" Phil asked. 

"I think so? That didn't go like I expected." Clint turned to face Phil with a guilty expression. "I messed up your clothes. I didn't even get you _out_ of your clothes. I think I failed at part of my half of this."

"You didn't fail at anything," Phil said, stroking his hand through Clint's hair in a soothing gesture. "Did you like it?"

Clint broke into a grin as he nodded. "Yes. God, yes. I can't remember the last time something hurt like that and felt so good at the same time. Can--can we try it again sometime?"

"Do you really have to ask?" Phil said, with a grin of his own. Clint had a lot of ideas, but it was rare for him to ask for something outright; Phil would have said yes even if he wasn't already thinking about how long it would take to get Clint begging again. "Of course. Whenever you want."

"You should let me thank you first," Clint said, guiding Phil onto his back as he moved to cover him. "It's only fair, don't you think?" 

Clint started working at the buttons of his shirt, looking pleased as Phil relaxed and finally let himself be undressed. Clint would need time to recover, after all, the ginger would need time to refresh, and Phil wanted to see just how good a grateful Clint could be.


End file.
